Understandings
by Maudlin Mush
Summary: The past catches up to the present. Follows "Neighbors and Partners"
1. Chapter 1

**Understandings **

**by MM **

disclaimer: The characters of Emergency do not belong to me. As always I'll help 'em up, dust them off, give 'em a smooch and send them back when I'm done.

rating: T

note: follows "Neighbors and Partners".

The older man looked out the cracked windshield at the fire station. He'd driven a long way to satisfy his curiosity and now he hesitated. What if he'd been wrong? He only had the information from two men, and they were nearly opposite in their opinions.

He'd not given his nephew a second thought after the first man called. A Dr. Hamil-something. The guy had reinforced everything he'd ever thought about the worthless brat and then some. But the second man, Purcell, he had been confusing.

John Gage was a valued member of the Rampart team? A fire fighter with a good reputation? Had given valuable first responder care and saved many people? These images conflicted with the belief his nephew was a worthless drunken fool that had killed his mother and drove his father to suicide. Had embarrassed his uncle time and again until social services came in to threaten him for harming the lazy brat. Had driven his own sister to run away from the family home to LA leaving him completely alone. Not that he missed the boy, but he hated to cook and his sister had always kept house for him.

Being alone had solidified his hate for his nephew. The only difference between then and now was he could beat the brat when he was at home and put him in his place. A piece of trash that didn't have a thing to offer the world.

And who was now a well respected fire fighter and paramedic.

The contradictions shook his well ordered world of disgust and hatred.

A loud horn sounded across the street followed by a siren. The doors of the station opened and a small, red truck turned out onto the street. The large fire engine remained behind. If Johnny was a paramedic then he'd be in the smaller truck. Maybe it'd be easier if he went in now. After wiping his hands on his jeans Roderick Gage stepped out of his old clunker and crossed the street to Station 51.

He entered through the apparatus bay. The first office door was closed and he could make out voices. Instead of knocking he went a little further to the next door. It looked like a kitchen, eating area and a place to watch TV. There were three men here, two at the table and a third making coffee.

"Hello, may I help you?" the standing man asked.

"Uhm, I was wondering if a Johnny Gage worked here?" why was he nervous? This was just his no-account disowned nephew he was asking after.

"Yeah, Gage works here," a mustached man seated at the table replied. "You just missed him, he went out on a run."

"Is there something we could help you with, mister..." the standing man seemed to be wary.

"I'm Roddy Gage, Johnny's uncle," he replied. Immediately the two men at the table smile broadly but the one by the coffee pot looked upset. He wondered briefly about the conflicting responses when the mustached man spoke.

"Wow! I bet you know all sorts of great stories about Johnny-boy growing up!" he said with great relish.

"I'll go let Captain Stanley know you're here," the standing man said as he walked past him.

"Hey, I'm Chet and this is Marco. We've worked with

Johnny about two years," Kelly said.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" the man named Marco asked. "Mike made it so it's drinkable. We don't let Chet make coffee." He smirked.

"Sure, why not," Roddy said as he went to sit down at the table.

Mike had to keep himself from running to Cap. Of all the people to walk into the station the last one he'd ever expect was Johnny Gage's uncle. He knew enough that this man had been very abusive to Johnny and caused him a lot of emotional turmoil. He'd heard the nightmares on occasion and had quietly listened to discussions he should not have been privy to. He knocked on the office door.

"Yes?" Hank Stanley called. He gave a gracious smile to the school principal he'd been in conference with and waited.

"Cap? Sorry to disturb you, but a Roderick Gage is here looking for Johnny," he said in one breath. He watched the older man freeze and pale momentarily. Then he pushed himself up out of his chair and strode across the room.

"I can't leave," he said quietly. "I'll be done in about ten minutes. Can you... entertain Mr. Gage?"

"I'll try," Mike promised, "but Marco and Chet are in talking with him." Hank dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not good.

"I'll be there as quickly as I can," he repeated. "Just, just do your best." He knew he was putting the engineer on the spot, but there was nothing else he could do.

Mike walked back into the kitchen but couldn't bring himself to sit down. Chet was happily detailing some of the pranks he'd pulled on Gage while the visitor politely listened.

"Chet, I thought you wanted all the dirt on Johnny!" Marco teased his friend. Mike closed his eyes and hoped for the best. Roddy was slow to offer much, but after some cajoling he allowed his nephew had been a screw-up from the word go. As he warmed to his topic and gained a head of righteous steam, he detailed every little transgression the boy had made in his estimation and the punishments he'd received. If he'd bothered to look at his audience he would have seen the jocularity fade and the horror grow in their eyes.

When Chet had started out he only wanted ammunition to tease his pigeon. As many embarrassing situations as he could glean from his uncle. But the stories that were being related were not embarrassing for Johnny but rather embarrassing for Chet. All the times he'd spent 'getting' his pigeon and then verbally harassing him only served to reinforce his upbringing. What he'd meant as a series of jokes actually must have hurt a lot.

Which now made him realize why Cap had been riding him so hard all this time, including a few months ago when he'd gotten Gage to take a partial shift at the 98s. Sure, normally the series of pranks would have been funny, but not to a man that had lived this hell growing up.

Johnny probably thought Chet was abusing him and would beat him if he tried to fight back! Feeling sick to his stomach he glanced across the room and realized that Cap was standing in the doorway trying to decide how to stop the storyteller and minimize the damage.

"Mr. Gage?" Hank cleared his throat and the older man stopped and turned around. He'd forgotten where he was for a moment, that he'd been talking freely in front of strangers. The man that had broken into his diatribe suddenly reminded him of a protective mother bear ready to rip apart anything that threatened her cub. Reminded him of that damned PE coach from the high school that pulled him off Johnny when he was being 'disciplined', the last day he ever laid eyes on his nephew.

It was not a very secure feeling welling up in side him.

In the background there was the sound of a truck backing in to the station, doors opening and closing. Two men discussing some arcane bit of the art of trimming rose bushes. Hank moved slightly to the side as first a blonde haired man strode in, a bright smile on his face followed by a dark-haired man.

His nephew, Johnny Gage. The smile on the younger man's smile dropped from his face, a look of fear briefly flickered through his eyes. Then all emotion shut down as the face turned to stone. An expression Rod had never seen before. If he'd had a chance to predict, he knew what would happen next. The captain fell next to his nephew and rested a hand on his shoulder. The silent man by the coffee pot moved to his other side and folded his arms. It looked like his nephew had chosen his friends better than he'd been allowed to choose his relatives.

"Rod," a cold voice cut through him. No more, no less, but years of pain bled through.

"You're Johnny's uncle?" the blonde-haired man asked. Suddenly Roddy's mouth was bone dry and all he could do was nod then take a gulp of coffee. It became very apparent no one was going to break the silence for him.

"I... I heard he was doing all right for himself..." he managed to eek out.

"And you couldn't believe a half-breed bastard like me could make it," Johnny's cold voice cut like a knife, "you thought I'd end up a drunk down on skid row with one hand wrapped around a brown bagged bottle." Rod at least had the decency to look down and appear ashamed.

"I'm sure you've let them know just what a screw up I was and how you worked oh so hard to keep me in line. You're done here, Rod," the anger simmered but between the engineer and captain it was contained. "You disowned me years ago and once again after Aunt Rosy died. I am no longer interested in any sort of relationship with you," and he turned and walked out, past the trucks, out the back door into the late afternoon.

The first thought in Cap's mind was he'd have to climb the hose tower after the paramedic. The second was damage control and removing Mr. Gage.

"I don't think you have any more business here, Mr. Gage," he said with tight politeness. "I'll let Mike show you to your car." Heaven knew he couldn't walk the man out without wanting to commit a violent act. One look at Roy Desoto showed him the paramedic would be a worse choice. Chet and Marco were shell-shocked.

He'd have to make it up to his engineer.

Roddy Gage stood up and thanked them for the coffee and hospitality. He followed the silent man out to the street and then was escorted across to his car.

"I never thought he'd make a go of it," he said quietly.

"John Gage is an exceptional man," Mike said. "A man I'm proud to call my friend." With that Roddy Gage climbed into the car, turned it on, and drove away, the fireman staying rooted in his spot until he was out of sight.

Mike walked back into the station. He knew the rest of the shift was going to be uncomfortable at best. He entered the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot and poured out a full mug for himself before joining the conversation at the table. Of the four men sitting there, Chet Kelly looked the most devastated.

"Thank you, Mike," Cap said once he sat down. "I couldn't walk the man out."

"Neither could I," Roy admitted. "I can't believe he showed up here."

"I can't believe I thought he had it easy growin' up," Chet muttered into his coffee. "He just is always so up beat and all." Disturbed green eyes looked up at his crew mates. "And I hurt him just like his uncle. He couldn't fight back because that... that... that man broke him."

"Chet, part of what you say might be true," Roy said. "He did feel you were abusing him and he could never get you back. But he doesn't think you'd do anything to really harm him."

"That's why I stepped in when he asked," Cap added, "you kept escalating the pranks until they became abusive."

"I've always wanted to know why you always pick me for your pranks," Johnny said softly as he walked back into the kitchen. Roy immediately stood up and went to his partner, needing to make sure he was ok. He threw his arms around the younger paramedic and held him for a long moment. He felt Johnny trembling and knew he was going into shock.

"Let's get you some coffee, Junior," Roy shifted and walked him to the stove. "You'll be glad to know Mike made it." This caused a strained chuckle as his mug was filled and he gratefully sipped the hot liquid. He then allowed his friend to propel him over to the table and the chair next to Hank. He sank down into the seat and accepted the arm thrown over his shoulder and half hug from his father figure.

"I picked on you because you never stayed mad," Chet said quietly. "Mike, Marco and Roy, they get mad and then keep being mad for days. You, you just always bounce back like nothing's wrong. I guess I've always known you'd take it. Maybe that's why I kept on going too far; I wanted to know what would make you stay mad." He hung his head in shame.

"Me and the Phantom just want to apologize for all the grief we've given you," Chet said just as quietly.

"You know, Chet, I don't mind it as much since you've toned it down," Johnny said. "But the 98s was a bit of a shock. And the bucket of water wasn't a good thing, either." Kelly looked extremely embarrassed.

"I know," then he amended, "I know now." The silence stretched.

"You guys mind calling out for Chinese or pizza?" Johnny asked. Mike shifted in his chair.

"Weren't you making some new dish tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, got a new one from Rose," the paramedic agreed.

"Why don't you and I get going on it?" Mike suggested. "Get our minds on something else." Another stretch of silence. Cap pulled Johnny closer and gently bumped his head against John's. Accepting the affection the younger man nodded.

"You can cut the onions," he said as he stretched back and picked up his coffee as Cap's arm slipped off.

"This doesn't have hamburger in it, does it?" Chet asked suspiciously. With a totally innocent face Johnny finally made eye contact.

"Why Chet, of course not! I'm using sliced hot dogs," Gage said with complete sincerity.

"I didn't see you buying hot dogs, Junior," Roy said lightly. This caused his partner to finally snicker and the other men joined in, needing the emotional outlet.

"Actually, it's pork chops, but cooked over dressing, onions, carrots, and potatoes," Johnny explained. It's called 'poor man's roast'."

"Ok, as long as it's not hamburger!" Chet said with mock seriousness.

The next hour was tense, everyone half-hoping a run would tone in. But the great fire fighter in the sky wanted the men to deal with the hand they were dealt and there were no runs. Chet flipped around the channels before giving up and choosing the news. Cap always had paper work to finish, although he carried it out to the table to go through it. Roy and Marco half-heartedly tried to play cards, but ended up watching the news as well.

Johnny layered the vegetables, dressing, and meat into the roasting pan then poured the broth over all of it. This was covered and pushed into the oven. He'd promised them a great dinner and now he was glad Mike had pushed him into cooking. The normalcy of routine with his friends around dulled the shock he'd felt when he saw his uncle.

Pouring out a glass of iced tea, Johnny sat next to Cap at the table and watched as various lines were filled in.

"He seemed a lot smaller," the paramedic said quietly. Cap kept writing letting him proceed at his own pace.

"I left home at 17. Well, actually, I was removed from home and stayed with coach Harris until Aunt Rosy could get packed and situated out in Los Angeles," Johnny corrected. "He looks like he's shrunk, his arms were loose and he face..." he stopped and took a long sip.

"It's only been 8 years and he looks like 20 have passed," Johnny concluded.

"Hard living," Cap said softly. "Not taking care of himself. Hate and loathing withers a person." He turned and placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Plus, you definitely had a late growth spurt once you were fed up right. You put on what, six inches since you were 17?"

"Yeah, I did kind of shoot up that last year of high school," he agreed.

"You going to go over to the track after shift?' Cap shifted the conversation.

"I said I'd be there around nine to help with the warm ups and then off to the track meet itself," John replied. He helped Jake's track coach when he could. Jake was Cap's son.

"Emily's packing lunch for us," he said. "And you are expected to come to dinner after as you know."

"I remember. Emily would have my hide if I forgot," Johnny nearly blushed. The woman treated him like one of her own. The feeling of belonging still surprised him, but it was definitely as necessary as the air he breathed.

Now the tones sang out as dispatched punched their code. "Station 51, explosion and house fire, 6285 Beechwood. Cross street, Hwy 39. Time out, 17:50."

___________


	2. Chapter 2

**Understandings**

Chapter 2

Now the tones sang out as dispatched punched their code. "Station 51, explosion and house fire, 6285 Beechwood. Cross street, Hwy 39. Time out, 17:50."

"Station 51, KMG 365," Hank replied and passed a slip of paper to Roy. He headed to the engine and his seat. Gage began providing navigation and soon the vehicles were running hot through the streets. Fortunately cars were willing to heed the sirens and pull off to the side; even cross traffic slowed and stopped and they met no problems on the road.

The houses were modest, although they had larger yards than the normal So Cal tract. They spotted their assignment easily; smoke was coming out of a large hole in the side of the house. Flames licked lightly at the broken walls and adjacent eaves. Neighbors were lined up watching, a few waved to the oncoming fire truck.

Parking the squad quickly, Roy and Johnny jumped out and were accosted by two people.

"There was an explosion that took out the side of the house," began the older man. "Amy got out and we've got her resting on the grass. But we haven't found her husband, Dave, or their son, Jimmy." Johnny went for his scba and coat while Roy called out to Cap relaying two victims were still inside. Then he ran over to the woman seated on the grass and gave her a quick once over.

"I'm ok," she managed, "Knocked the wind out of me, maybe cracked some ribs. Just find Jimmy and Dave!!" Roy went back for the drug box, O2 and biophone and watched his partner enter the partially burning structure.

"Why aren't you going in to save my family!" Amy shrieked as Roy laid out his equipment.

"My partner's gone in," Roy replied. "I need to get set up and look after you, too." The woman unsuccessfully tried to argue with the blonde-haired paramedic, but he stood fast doing his job. In any event she had more than a cracked rib; there was a swelling on the side of her head and her left eye was sluggish in responding to light.

There was a noise from the house as part of the roof fell in. At the same time Johnny came running out carrying an adolescent over his shoulder. He quickly lie the coughing boy down and put the O2 mask on his face.

"Hold it and breathe!" he commanded. "I'll go get your father." The boy nodded as he watched the paramedic pull on his own face mask and head to the squad pulling out a back board before snagging a scba masked Marco and heading back into the burning home.

A backboard was not a good sign and Roy hoped the man wasn't trapped. At least the boy's breathing was getting better as the oxygen trickled in and cleaned out his lungs. The mother also calmed down now that her son, at least, was out and pretty much ok.

Several minutes passed and Hank had Chet manning the hose while he made sure all utilities were off. Once these were secured part of the fire lessened considerably. The fire captain joined the fire man in pouring water on the fire.

Finally Marco and Johnny came out from the house, although the paramedic was limping slightly. Between them was the backboard with a man fastened to it. Roy could already see his arm was burned, maybe his side as well. He reached for sterile sheets and contacted Rampart.

"Hand me a roll of gauze," Marco said immediately upon setting the board down. Johnny reached for the bp cuff. Handing over the gauze he watched the wiry fireman rip Gage's pant's leg above the knee and without comment begin binding a long cut that was exposed. The dark-haired paramedic gritted his

teeth and hissed through the pain, but did not complain.

"Thanks, Marco," he ground out as the gauze was tied off.

"No problemo, amigo," he smiled at his friend and then left to help with the hose.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51," Roy began and was immediately picked up by Dixie.

"This is Rampartmd, 51," her calm voice came over the speaker.

"Rampart, we have four victims," Roy began ignoring the glare from his partner.

"Go ahead, 51," she replied as she set up her notepad.

Roy quickly detailed out the mother and son before handing the phone over to Johnny. The man seemed to be the worst of the lot and he listened as his partner delineated injuries and vitals. Finally he relayed his own condition, sans blood pressure.

When Kel approached he was nearly overwhelmed by four patients. Then, as he read and listened, he was able to triage the foursome. The male, age 30, was given an IV, small dose of ms, sterile sheeting and transported on backboard. He'd go to Mike Morton as soon as he came in. The woman was second priority, again, IV, but nothing for pain due to the possible concussion. Joe Early would see to her. The boy would travel in with the woman and the cut leg would come in with the man (although Rampart did not realize the paramedic was the one hurt!). They'd be seen by Brackett when time permitted.

"How bad, Junior?" Roy asked as they moved to the ambulances.

"At least a dozen stitches," he replied. "And I hear a tetanus shot calling my name." He was still limping, managed to climb into the back of the ambulance and accepted the biophone and drug box. Roy jumped in the second ambulance with the mother and son. Soon they were zipping down the highway towards Rampart.

The ER team was ready as the gurneys were brought in. These went into separate rooms. Dixie took the boy into a third room as she glanced around for the fourth patient. But besides the two paramedics, she saw no one.

Morton immediately began his assessment and utilized Johnny for his assistant. Even though they sometimes butted heads, the young doctor knew the paramedic was the consummate professional and followed orders competently. He sent the nurse to call for a burn specialist as well as radiology for X-rays. Besides the obvious burns, there was a definite broken humorous and possible cracked ribs.

Finally he glanced across at Gage to see how the IV and sterile sheeting was doing with the saline rinse. He did a double take as he realized how pale the man was.

"Are you ok, Gage?" he asked. The man carefully braced himself against the table as he saturated the clean, new, sheeting.

"No," he said tersely, "but there's no one else at the moment so I'll hang on." Morton couldn't see the bloody gauze starting to drip down into Johnny's shoe and sock.

Morton was beginning to really worry when Dixie came in with Carol.

"X-ray is coming, doctor, and the burn unit is sending down Dr. Jefferson," Carol reported.

"Johnny, you and Roy called in four victims, but I can only find three," she said and watched his pale, sweaty face look up.

"That's 'cause I'm the fourth," He said. "Can I go, Dr. Morton?"

"Carol, take over for Johnny," he directed. "Dix, he might need a chair..." As the paramedic limped around the table the doctor finally noted the slit pants leg and bloody wrap underneath.

"Don't think I dripped on the floor," he gritted out as Dixie positioned a wheel chair by him. Johnny sank down gratefully as his shoulders slumped. Blood loss sucked. Soon he was being pushed out into the hall where a waiting Kel had been pacing.

"Dix, did you find out..." he began. "Johnny? Why didn't you say something?"

"Got a little busy," he said quietly. They went down the hall to exam room 5 and pushed him in. With the doctor and nurse's help he got up on the bed and rolled his eyes as Dixie cut off his pants.

"So much for my uniform allowance," he griped.

"If I charged you by the suture I'd be rich," Brackett griped right back.

"Hey, I bring 'em back when I can!" Johnny launched back with a smile in his voice. "Shouldn't I get a deposit or something?" He hissed as the gauze was carefully pulled away.

"Lidocaine, Dix, then rinse the cut for me," Kel ordered. The paramedic gripped the side of the table as water flowed over the cut. A sharp stick in his arm pulled away his attention.

"MS to take the edge," Brackett said as he patted his friend's shoulder. "I know that hurts!" Johnny nodded, his teeth clenched behind his lips.

Soon the doctor was injecting lidocaine around the cut and then began cleaning out the wound thoroughly. His patient was lying flat, his arm over his eyes ignoring the entire procedure. Given the site of the slash, Brackett had him roll over onto his side and used pillows to bolster him into place. Two others were put between his legs to raise the injured leg making it easier for him to work on it. As he began to stitch the door opened and Hank Stanley walked in.

Without a word he went up to Gage's head and lifted his arm.

"Hi Cap," Johnny said, "fire out already?" Brackett and Dixie wondered why the captain moved the covering arm away and put his hand directly on his shoulder all the while keeping eye contact.

"Chet blew it out," Hank responded. "All that hot air." Both men chuckled. Then he looked down at the paramedic's leg.

"What's the damages, Doc?" he asked.

"Well, no ligaments, just skin and muscle," Brackett explained. "When's the next shift?"

"We have a 72 hour off," Hank explained. "Next shift starts Sunday morning."

"He'll be good to go then," Brackett decided. "I'll look him over Saturday since I'm on." The doctor wondered why the captain was looking so concerned. It really was only a clean cut.

"Johnny's fine, Hank," he said. "Won't even need a tetanus since he had one less than a year ago."

"I'll stand the squad down until Roy can drive you back," he told his paramedic. "We'll decide what to do with you when you get back to the barn."

"Do with him?" Dixie asked. "Just send him home to rest." The subsequent look in the older man's eyes completely negated that suggestion. Johnny put his hand over Hank's forearm.

"Don't worry, Cap, I'll come back to the barn," he promised. "I'm sure you guys will find a place to tuck me."

"My only concern is Em and Joanne will fight over you," he teased. Gage slightly blushed and Hank decided to stop. He gave him a final pat on the shoulder. "See you back at the station." As he started out the door Kel motioned with his eyes for Dixie to follow. He wanted to know what was going

on that was causing Hank to be so over-protective.

"Hank?" Dixie called after 51's captain. She could tell he'd hoped to make a clean escape and slowly turned around.

"So much for a quick in and out," he muttered as the head nurse grabbed an elbow and guided him into the doctor's lounge. Roy was seated at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Oops," Roy smiled at the 'boy caught in the cookie jar' look on Cap's face.

"I had the best intentions," Hank shrugged.

"Ok, you two, something's going on," Dixie said firmly. " 'fess up!"

"Johnny's Uncle Roddy showed up at the station today," Hank said without preamble. Dixie sunk into a chair and accepted a mug of coffee from Roy.

"Just showed up? No warning?" she was shocked.

"None, Dix," Roy confirmed. "John and I were out on a run when he came in and started talking with Chet and Marco."

"If we ever thought there was any doubt Johnny was abused as a child, it was completely laid to rest," Hank said seriously.

"I only heard what Chet mentioned," Roy said.

"I only came in on the end, and that was more than enough," Cap was angry. "I wanted to plow him into the ground."

"How is Johnny doing?" Dixie asked as she patted Hank's arm in a soothing gesture.

"He was in shock for a while, then Mike got him involved in preparing dinner," Roy related.

"He spoke with me a bit, before we got toned out," Cap said. "That's why I want to keep him close to us. I already set up and appointment with his counselor, Kevin. tomorrow. We'll take care of him."

"I know you're just protecting Johnny," Dixie said, "but I'm glad you told me. I'll let Kel and Joe know so that we can watch out for him."

"The only thing that bothers me is what if he comes back?" Roy said.

"I don't know, Roy," Hank said, "but I do know he's not going to face this alone." He checked his watch. "I better go, the guys are hanging out in the engine."

"We'll be back as soon as Johnny's released," Roy said watching his captain leave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Understanding**

Chapter 3

Johnny was understandably quiet on the ride back to the station. When the truck doors opened both men were completely wrapped in the smell of pork roast.

"Oh, man, I'm starving!" Roy said as he followed his nose. Johnny laughed.

"That's my line, pally!" he said as he limped in behind. The roasting pan was on the stove and four happy firemen were at table eating.

"Damn, Gage, you did good!" Chet said through a full mouth.

"Swallow!" both Marco and Cap chastised as the rest laughed. Roy began to dish out two plates.

"Sit, Junior," he directed, "I'll get it!" Mike pulled out a chair for his friend. Soon Roy joined them putting a full plate in front of his partner. Salad was passed and doled out.

"I hope there's enough for me!" a voice called from the door. Dwyer walked in with a large, hopeful grin.

"Yep, I put in a couple extra chops just in case," Johnny said after swallowing. The new shift mate happily claimed a portion from the pan. Chet snagged a place mat and flatware for him. Soon all seven men were enjoying a solid meal.

"Since you guys started that cook book dinner has gotten a lot better!" Dwyer exclaimed as he took a breather from eating.

"Yeah, and it keeps growing!" Marco said. "Momma is having a great time adapting her favorite recipes so I can cook 'em."

"Same with Joanne," Roy agreed. "She knows what I like. She adjusts the ingredients so it'll feed upwards of 8 people."

"I thought for sure we'd all gain weight," Chet said as he carefully pushed the last of his dressing onto his fork. "But I think we're actually eating healthier!"

A knock at the door jamb got their attention. Kel Brackett walked in. Although he did stop by from time to time, Cap figured he was checking up on his patient.

"Did I miss dinner?" he asked with a longing in his voice. The men chuckled.

"There's one chop left, Doc," Dwyer said. "Help yourself." Kel immediately found a plate and grabbed some dinner. Yet another place mat and flatware appeared and the remainder of the salad was pushed towards him.

"So what brings you here?" Cap asked.

"You mean besides dinner?" Kel smiled. It was an excellent pork chop and the dressing was moist. "Actually, I figured there'd be three paramedics here and I wanted to get some feed back regarding supplies. It just seems that certain items are always running short."

"Well, after dinner they're all yours," Hank said. "Unless there's a run.

"Hey, John, what's for dessert?" Chet asked the important question.

"Fresh berries, pound cake and whip cream," he replied. It was simple and tasted good. When he tried to stand up the mustached fireman shook his finger.

"Ah ah ah! You're off shift," he stood up and picked up the empty plates. "Me and Marco will dole out the dessert!"

"Wait a minute!" Mike complained, "I'll help. That way we'll all get a fair share!" Leaving Brackett to finish his dinner and Johnny to rest, the others cleaned up, made coffee and dished up eight desserts.

"Who made dinner?" Kel asked the paramedic.

"Me," he replied with a crooked grin.

"It's really good," Kel complimented him. "Can I have the recipe?"

"Why don't you get a copy of our cookbook?" Chet set the binder down on the table. "We've been working on it for a few weeks. We've been talkin' about printing it out for our families."

Kel flipped the binder open and grinned at the picture. The next page was a collection of all the men's signatures. Then a listing of recipes. He continued to go through page by page, noting the different features, including notes at the bottom of some that shared where the recipe came from or some anecdote regarding cooking. He could tell the men really had come together over the book.

His plate empty, it was whisked away and replaced with dessert and coffee. The berries were just the perfect ending to the heavier meal.

"You know, the hospital's auxiliary has published a couple of cookbooks over the years," he said. "They donate the profits to the hospital."

"That's an interesting idea," Cap said. "We're always having a fund raiser of some sort for the different Fire groups."

"Yeah, usually some baseball or football game," Marco supplied.

"Selling candy was the worst!" Roy said. "We ate all of the chocolate!" A round of chuckles circled the table.

"But if we printed the cookbook, where could we sell it?" Gage asked trying to be practical.

"I can talk to the auxiliary," Kel said. "I bet they'd put it in the gift shop for you."

"We could send out a flyer to all the other stations," Mike said. "I know we'd have some takers, there!"

"I can check with the county," Cap suggested. "They have plenty of outlets and if it's for a fire department charity they'd be happy to help."

"Don't forget we have to pay to have it printed," Chet pointed out. They discussed the possibilities of publishing the cookbook and finally decided to have Brackett contact the hospital's auxiliary to find out how they printed and sold their own cookbooks.

"Well, Doc, do you still want to pick the paramedics' brains?" Hank asked as the table was cleared off and the men were considering wandering off. Brackett agreed and soon the four men were out by the squad pulling out boxes. Chet appeared out of nowhere with a chair and made Gage sit down, propping his leg on the running board.

"You're off shift!" he declared as he handed him a mug of coffee adorned with a shot of whip cream. Johnny happily sipped the hot beverage.

They pulled out various drugs, discussing what they used the most. Many of the IVs ran out on back to back runs. Brackett felt they could increase the number by two or three with no problem. The controlled drugs were another matter, but these weren't used in the same quantity and all four decided the supply in the box was satisfactory.

As Kel was making notes the tones began calling the entire station out to a moving vehicle accident on the 405. The drug box was packed up and put away. The chair and Johnny were moved back into the kitchen with Kel as the two trucks headed out.

With a sigh Gage sank down on the couch and propped his leg up on a chair. "You don't have to hang around, Doc," he said as he squirmed trying to find a more comfortable position.

"I know, but I think I'll check out your wound," he said. "I have my bag in the car."

"That's a surprise," John smirked. Kel tried to quell the twitching smile from dominating his face and failed miserably. He went out to his car and soon returned. He snagged a blanket out of the linen cupboard and went back into the TV area.

"I'll take off my pants," the paramedic offered. "These are my favorite jeans!" Kel helped him and then wrapped the blanket around his patient. He busily unwrapped the gauze and checked the stitching. It was slightly red near the ankle end so he poured a little saline over it and then added some antibiotic cream before wrapping it back up.

"I want to check this again tomorrow," he said. "I don't want to start you on antibiotics unless you really need them."

"I can stop by Rampart tomorrow," Gage offered.

"Do you know where you're staying tonight?" Kel asked as he handed his patient his jeans.

"No, I don't know if Cap's arranged for that yet," Johnny said.

"Joe's coming over for coffee in the morning," Kel said. "And you've already been fed dinner. You're welcome to my guest room." He could see the hesitation on his friend's face.

"I, uh, didn't have a real good day, Doc," Johnny hedged. He had no idea how he'd react after seeing his uncle, but he was sure it wasn't going to be easy to sleep that night.

"Oh? Something worse than getting your leg stitched up?" Kel was very good at acting dumb when need be. He waited Johnny out, wanting the young man to confide in him. He didn't have to wait too long.

"Uhm, my uncle came to the station today," Gage blurted out.

"Here? At the station?" Kel asked quickly. Johnny had adopted a defensive posture wrapping arms around himself and not making eye contact.

"Yeah," he grunted. "He was here when Roy and I got back from a run."

"That must have been hard," Kel gently pressed.

"I haven't seen him in eight years," Johnny admitted. "Not since I was taken away by social services." There was a wealth of information Brackett wasn't privy to, but he accepted what he was given. He waited.

"I guess he told the guys all about what a screw-up I was," Johnny shrugged and seemed to shrink into himself. Kel Immediately moved from chair to couch and broke through Gage's personal space, an arm going over the paramedic's shoulders.

"I know a lot of things about you, John Gage," he said firmly, "and 'screw-up' doesn't fit in anywhere." They sat there, the younger stiff in shame for a long moment. Then he gave in and leaned against the doctor.

"You're a good man, Johnny," Kel said. "You put everyone ahead of you. Hell, I broke rule number 1 for you because you are a dedicated, kind person! I'm proud to call you my friend."

"Careful, doc, it's getting awful mushy," Johnny's voice wavered as he held himself stiffly, trying not to cry. This was the reaction Hank had been waiting for, not wanting to leave the younger man alone. Without another person with him Johnny would have self-destructed.

Kel waited, then put his other arm around the paramedic, pulling him tight against himself. Slowly the paramedic loosened up and molded himself to the doctor as he began to sob. He was glad Johnny trusted him. He was glad everyone else was out on a run. He held his friend close and allowed him time to grieve. Years of pain came out. Kel just hung on. After a long while he felt Johnny start to drift, the tears slowing down.

"So, do you want to come home with me?" Brackett asked once more. He received a soggy nod. They sat together for nearly 20 minutes more until Johnny had really pulled himself back and was ready for a little space.

"Should we wait for the guys?" Kel asked, "or leave a note?"

"It's late, a note should be ok," Johnny decided. He just wanted to curl up and try to sleep. He watched Brackett write out a note to his captain then return to the couch and helped Johnny up. Together they walked out to the car and soon were headed towards Kel's home.

It was nearly ten when they finally came into the house. A clean t-shirt and sweats were located for Gage who gratefully changed. He loved his jeans, but they rubbed against the gauze and wound beneath. Before he went into the guest room Kel had him come into the kitchen for some warm chamomile tea and some pain medication.

"This way your leg won't keep you awake," Brackett reasoned.

"I guess I should apologize now 'cause I'm sure to wake you later," Johnny said as he stared into the tea.

"Maybe not,"Kel decided to plant the seeds of sleep. "You did have a good emotional outburst earlier."

"You mean I sobbed like a little baby," the paramedic squirmed.

"You cried because you needed to let out all the pain and memories," Kel said firmly. "There is no shame in that!" Then he tried a slightly different tacked.

"You trust me to take care of you at Rampart, right?" Brackett asked.

"Yes," came the immediate answer with a nod.

"Then trust me to guard your sleep," he said. "If you have a bad dream I'll be there. You'll be just fine."

"Ok, doc," Gage said with a small smile.

"And you can make me and Joe a big pot of coffee in the morning!" This broadened Johnny's smile.

"I can do that!" he chuckled. Finishing his tea, he headed for bed.

Nearly eight hours later the first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains. Curled up on his side Johnny opened his eyes and let his mind surface. He was in Kel Brackett's guest room. That was easy. Now the why needed to surface. The slight throbbing in his calf reminded him of the stitches put there the previous day.

Which led him back to Rod.

He rolled over on his back and allowed all the memories to flood forward, from the pain and shock, to the calm support of his crew mates, to the torrential burst of tears, to coming home with Doc. The best part of waking to all of this was he was rested and could deal with the emotions.

He listened to the house. His apartment came with the sounds of his neighbors and the street below. Here it was quieter and the sounds of birds filtered in. He knew Kel would not be awake; the Doc was not a morning person! Stretching he took inventory of his body, noting the leg was not a happy camper. At least he knew where the aspirin was in this house.

He quietly rose and headed for the bathroom. His mind was already beginning to gallop ahead pondering the term 'freshen up'. Given the taste in his mouth he figured something had died in there overnight and freshening that part of his body would be good. Aspirin was located and swallowed with a handful of water.

Finishing up he next wandered out to the front room and opened the curtains letting in the morning light. It promised to be a beautiful, sunny day. He looked forward to spending time outside. Next stop was the kitchen and he opened the window to let the morning breeze in. He took a few deep breaths.

Thus fortified he began his inventory of cupboard and fridge. Coffee first. The aroma alone would probably wake his host up. He set up the drip and turned it on. Next he checked the bread. Hmmm, a little stale, but no mold. He set it aside.

The fridge yielded eggs and milk in date. Bingo! A pound of bacon! He grinned as he pulled these treasures out. Finally he checked out the cupboards. Kel was always good for canned fruit and he selected peaches and pears for a fruit salad. Ah, vanilla! A little sugar. Cinnamon. And a small bottle of maple syrup. He lined everything up and smiled happily.

His Aunty Rosy's french toast, bacon, fruit salad and coffee. Perfect! He loved breakfast. Well, he loved lunch and dinner, too. But this breakfast brought back good memories, something he really wanted about now.

First he spread some bacon on a rack on a cookie sheet and put it in the oven. Then he beat eggs, milk, vanilla and sugar together. He tucked in a couple pieces of bread to soak up the liquid. A teflon frying pan was heated and soon the bread was cooking in the pan.

Table set, fruit drained and placed in a bowl. A mug of coffee poured and walked down the hall to the sleeping doctor.

"Hey, Kel?" he called softly from the doorway.

"Mrphf," the inarticulate answer.

"Cof - fee - ee," Johnny softly sang.

"Mmhf. Coffee?" that gained a whole word. Gage entered the room and set the mug on the night stand. Then he opened the curtains to let in the light.

"Too bright!" came the immediate complaint. But the paramedic just grinned to himself and left the room to check on breakfast.

Nearly twenty minutes later Bracket dragged his robed body out in search of more coffee. He muttered incoherently as he sat down, plunking his empty mug on the table. Johnny poured out hot coffee and sat down to enjoy his breakfast. He knew Kel wouldn't be ready to eat until the second cup of coffee was gone.

A knock at the door announced Joe Early's arrival. He was pleasantly surprised to find decent coffee and breakfast ready for him. He came into the kitchen and glanced at the dark-haired doctor.

"Still on his second cup?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yep," Johnny confirmed. "He should just about be ready to have breakfast."

"I am sitting right here," Brackett grumbled. He really could do without mornings.

"Could have fooled me," Joe teased. "Thought it was some furry log."

"Ha, ha," he muttered. But he did look up in interest as a plate with

french toast and bacon was set in front of him. Followed by more coffee. Joe happily added milk to his own coffee then waited for the butter and syrup. Soon both doctors were happily eating.

"You know Johnny, we could make a fortune if we rented you out," Joe teased.

"No way," Kel said as he took another bite of warm, fragrant, french toast. Between here and the station he's booked." Gage just gave a forced smile. He'd had enough of being "rented out" by his uncle. Excusing himself, he headed for the bathroom.

And lost all his breakfast. Damn it all! Couldn't he be normal? Why did everything bring back bad memories? He rebrushed his teeth and went back into the guest room, pulled back the covers and then buried himself in a heap of misery. So much for a wonderful day.

Of course, there was no way Kel and Joe didn't hear him retching. He'd never been good at being quiet. He was wrapped up tight, not a piece of hair exposed to the world, when a large hand began rubbing his back. The bed dipped as the younger doctor sat down and began tugging experimentally at the covers.

"Johnny?" he tried. "You in there?"

"You need to at least leave a breathing hole," Early added. Gage tried to roll himself into as small a ball as possible. Which didn't work because Bracket just scooped him up and slid to the floor with the bundle in his lap. Joe sat down on the bed and began helping with the excavation.

"Hi," Kel said once he found a face with two red eyes. The older doctor brushed hair off of his face. And they waited. Slowly their patient relaxed slightly and turned more towards Brackett.

"I want to be normal," he muttered.

"What's normal?" Kel asked as he rubbed gentle circles on his back. He just shrugged. That was a good question. He didn't know what it was.

"Tell me what upset you, Johnny," Joe asked. "Then we can help you."

"I don't wanna be rented out," he clenched his eyes shut thinking that would stop the tears that were threatening. Brackett looked up at his friend and saw the sadness reflected.

"Ok," Joe said. "We were just teasing. You really are good at coffee and the french toast was excellent."

"I know you were teasing," he muttered. "I just can't stop the memories and then the feelings and then I..." he dropped off because he was losing the battle against tears. Brackett did the only thing he could, pulling him close and letting him hide. Joe motioned with his head and left the room for a long moment, returning with a syringe. Being a doctor had its advantages.

"Johnny, we're going to give you something to help calm you down and settle your stomach," Joe said. He poked around the covers and soon exposed an upper arm. A quick swabbing and then he injected the medicine into the shuddering body. Slowly the tremors stopped, and he started to unclench. The two men worked in tandem to get him extricated from the tightly wound blanket.

"Ok, let's go try some more breakfast, hmmm?" Brackett suggested as Johnny calmed down. Food would be good. Maybe some coffee. Joe pulled the paramedic to his feet and put an arm around him giving him a comforting hug. He could tell Johnny's grip on his 'normal' was tenuous at best.

Sitting down a fresh cup of coffee was poured out and the last piece of french toast was rescued from the oven. A little butter, some syrup, and then the doctors topped their cups and sat down with the paramedic.

"Sorry," Johnny managed. "It's been a rough couple of days."

"I'm sorry, too, John," Kel said quietly. There was little to say that wouldn't come across as a negative so he settled for sipping at his coffee. Joe simply rested his hand on the man's forearm in silent support.

"I'm seeing Kevin this morning," Gage found his voice once more. "He'll earn his co-pay."

"He gets a co-pay? We don't get a co-pay!" Kel pretended to complain.

"You got coffee," John retorted. "And french toast. In advance!"

"Much better than a co-pay," Joe agreed as he saluted with his coffee mug.

Slowly the conversation came back to even keel. Brackett whipped up an omelette for Johnny and listened to Early berating him for never doing the same for him.

"Normally I have to drink half a bottle of Knob Creek to get an omelette," Gage commented.

"It'd be a sacrifice I'd be willing to make!" Joe said, hand over his heart. They laughed. It had been a rocky morning but at least now life had gotten back to as normal as it was for the three men.

"Best go shower, John," Kel directed. Then I can check that cut and bandage it before Hank comes."

" 'K," he agreed. Before he started down the hall he stopped, "Thanks doc, for being there for me." Kel smiled warmly.

"Always, my friend," he said.


End file.
